


a posse ad esse

by Emeka



Category: Baroque (Video Games)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:09:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeka/pseuds/Emeka
Summary: lookit them tags mm mm mm





	a posse ad esse

**Author's Note:**

> First post anxiety... plus a fic like this... lol w2g me 
> 
> (spent twenty minutes hovering over post button FUCK IT HERE GOES)

With all their time together, it is hard not to feel anything. But he hadn’t noticed for the longest time–they are siblings, after all– what soft, warm skin his brother has. His own doesn’t compare, or the fingers and hands of others that he occasionally touches. 

And as pitifully narcissistic as it seems, he likes the mild prettiness of his face as he sleeps. He has such a sharp little chin and dark eyelashes. The line of his neck is very soft and smooth too, unlike other, older men he sees, which are more hair roughened and jowly. 

A pretty white chest, too, just barely visible from the first two unbuttoned snaps of his top.

Such contemplation stirs him. Technically he knows what his little brother looks like just by looking at himself, not to mention all the baths they’ve taken together, but thinking of it fills his body with a deliciously nervy feeling.

He wants so bad to touch him. He’s wanted to for a long, long time and when he does–.

So carefully he unbuttons his shirt, mesmerized by the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest–his own little brother’s chest, with nipples just as small and pink as he knew them to be. Touching them is even sweeter, pinching them lightly into little tight nubs, reddening with colour. His brother squirms, brow knitting briefly. His cheeks pinken.

Moving lower, over the faint ridges of his ribs and the dip of his navel (his brother sucks in a breath as if sensitive, or perhaps just ticklish), settling on the waistband of his pants. There’s another clasp here, but it’s as easy as undoing that and pulling them down. Neither of them wear underpants; pants are enough to keep them separate everywhere but the hip, and what with being unable to move anywhere, chafing isn’t a problem.

It’s impossible, but what if his little brother woke up now with his siblings hovering over him in such a distasteful way, breathing heavily and with a shaking hand on the band of his just lowered pants? Hate him, definitely. But he wants to imagine that he’d accept him, that he’d gaze lovingly up at him and–.

Narrow hips tapering down to legs that he knows are just as thin. But more importantly, the area of his groin; he’s seen him before in the bath, but never quite in this fashion, in these circumstances. It’s lifted, somewhat, and firm to the touch. When he rubs it a little, the colour deepens and it hardens further.

It isn’t as though he’s never touched himself before. He has. He even understands why it happens. He is old enough to have had something like sex education, when a few nurses sat down with him to go over pictures of the reproductive system.

It makes this even more interesting, when he understands the reason. This is occurring via arousal, body heat… instinctual drive. His brother isn’t even conscious right now, but his body still responds to touch.

It doesn’t feel as wrong as he thought it would. After all, they are almost the very same person. It was only a hesitation in the womb that prevented them from actually being so.

The boy continues touching at various places, pausing to tug wonderingly at the scant, downy hair also present. A similar growth of hair, just as bare and dark, had started for him as well in the past few months and he knows what that means, too. He wonders if his brother does.

It means, the nurse had told him (the youngest of them, who had been fidgety through the entire presentation and sometimes broke out in odd giggles, but seemed determined to be solemn as the others were) that one is growing up. Becoming an adult. It hadn’t meant much to him personally, but seeing such a sign on his sibling’s otherwise childish body feels electric.

He pulls harder, savoring the feel of the little silky hairs between his fingers. Maybe too hard, as his brother gives another jerk, like a hard clenching across his abdomen.

If his brother had woken up–and accepted him of course–what here? Finally tell him to stop? Or go on with it, just as enraptured by these goings-on as he is? He wants to imagine a pleading look with eyes downcast, and a low timid voice that is nonetheless filled with the same shaky emotion he feels that bids him to continue.

He continues, alternating between pulling carefully at his little boy’s crop of pubic hair (how inappropriate, he knows, but he’s just so childish in every other aspect), rubbing the shaft of his penis and pressing in differing levels of tender and harsh at the head, and dipping lower to fondle the rest of him.

His brother cries out once or thrice, face cherry-red by now with beads of sweat glistening at his hairline, the rest of his body humid, hotly moist and his chest moving with the hectic pace of his breathing.

Not too long into this, his brother gives a sharp, hurt sound, and his hips suddenly buck. The boy winces at the pain the movement gives his own hip, but quickly has his attention diverted when his brother cries out again in a thin, suffocated yelp. His body trembles all over, accompanied by another pull of the hips, and a whitish-clear liquid spurts from him onto his stomach.

Afterwards he goes entirely limp, still flushed and breathing deeper than normal, but not as quickly. The boy uncertainly dips a finger in the liquid (he knows what this is too, from that same giggling nurse who had to look away to contain herself as the others glared and clucked at her), scoops some off and sucks it tentatively. Not unpleasant, and almost wholly tasteless but for a faint salt and bitter-sweetness.

He muses a moment before deciding that this isn’t a situation he’d like to get caught in, and goes to work cleaning things up with a tissue.

**Author's Note:**

> no shame in my game  
> x-post in tumblr


End file.
